One blog. Two opinions. One zillion films.

My therapeutic vent re: movie trailers felt pretty good (see this comment) but, you know, negative people suck. Here’s my idea of a good trailer. Check these features:

1. Snappy selection of tunes. 

2. Two of the finest (and perhaps the smartest) young actors today, Zooey Deschanel and Joseph Gordon-Levitt.

3. Not a single promise that we can look forward to an assortment of eviscerations and slo-mo gunshot exit wounds.

4. Those two magic words: Sun! Dance!

5. A chance to utilize my mad YouTube-embedding skillz.

If your final glyph is a question mark, however, the temptation might be too much.

Let’s take turns having the final say, what say? Question mark!

Then again, I could come up with a special font style for our New! For 2009! look, an outlined, underlined purplish font that when applied means “rhetorical question.”

“Purple is the color of good judgment. It is the color of people seeking spiritual fulfillment. It is said if you surround yourself with purple you will have peace of mind. Purple is a good color to use in meditation.

Purple has been used to symbolize magic and mystery, as well as royalty. Being the combination of red and blue, the warmest and coolest colors, purple is believed to be the ideal color.”

Sure, use purple! ☺ Or was that a rhetorical solution? QED at the end, perhaps—Latin for “quod erat demonstrandum” Proof is demonstrated!

Do you approve of the new art? Makes me laugh. You look healthy — such sinewy arms! Full disclosure: I did a little Photoshop work on my vitiligo.

LOVE the new art!!!! I didn’t notice any work on your vitiligo, but can you Botox my lips? It is funny! I still have the licorice left over from that shoot in my freezer. That shoot was a hoot!

K loves House. I enjoy it on occasion. It’s another example of how the best writers all seem to be doing TV, not movies. I am not biologically disposed to comment on all your sexy guys. I drift instead to thoughts of Zooey Deschanel, who is enough reason to see the new Jim Carrey mug-a-thon, Yes We Can. (I think that’s the title — our editor will fix it.)

GOOD! You have raved about a girl! Very good! I can’t be the only one slobbering. Zooey cute.

I’ve gotten fond of KHOL (89.1 FM), our fledgling radio station. The other morning they played The New Mastersounds followed by Tom Waits’ cover of the Ramones’ “I Don’t Wanna Grow Up.” Lordy! It may require clandestine research on the Large Hadron Collider to find a dimension of equivalent coolness.

I can’t get KHOL very clearly on my radio. Tried, quite fuzzy most of the time. My sister likes the station a lot, too. Why don’t they ask us to fight about movies on the air? Now that would be fun, and we wouldn’t have to produce much, just watch some movies, show up and start yammering!

The group on Thursday night at Lyndsay’s was a wonderful group, a strong and beautiful gathering. Many un-dry eyes in the house when Terry and Louie read; my own eyes very wet. Wet with hope, wet with the enormity of the world and how every tiny thing in it is a prayer. And the message is, and will always be, “Seize the Day.” How often I’ve thought of traveling to Africa, but stop short because, in part, of the very feelings Terry expressed; she’d not wanted to go because she did not feel comfortable entering a place so torn asunder; how can we explain our presence? But she realized that her humanity depended on her going with Lily. And so it did; so came this book. She and Brooke have Louie, and he has them.

Lesson: Look to those tiny moments, those small occurrences and instincts to find true magic.

Holiday Heads Up: I have some gigs to prepare for–tourists coming in to see art! Also must add to other blog, Jackson Hole Art Blog. Many cookies to bake. What I’m trying to get at is, my new attempt at every-other-day posts may lag off a tiny bit until just after the big 25, but will do my best not to lag too much.

And Lord, here come more Homestead Press orders! Why is everyone so last-minute? I want a bigger tip!

T.

Tam,

Tru dat Church love. K first noticed Thomas Haden Church when he had two sitcoms on TV at once. I agree, his best work is yet to come. He’s already delivered plenty of original stuff: 

– He wrote and directed a very funny pot comedy, Rolling Kansas.

– Sideways, already a perfect delight, is a DVD twofer. Paul Giamatti and Church add to the DVD a commentary track that’s every bit as entertaining as the movie. 

– Like Sky High, George of the Jungle is a family film that’s unusually sharp and crisp. You can watch it with the kids and not merely pretend you’re entertained. 

Might have to take a flash trip to Boulder CO this weekend, playing a bit part in a family drama too knotted and gripping for an economical blog post. Guess I’ll be spending all my Xmas-shopping money on those big-city cinema tickets. What shall I see? Besides this?

Disclaimer: In no way do I proscribe an imperative that you screen certain movies according to my edict. I am not the boss of you. Do as you will. But if you cannot summon normative tip-of-the-tongue quips and propaganda points necessary for civil conversation, don’t come crying to me.

Ok, Tam, my Number 1 is . . .

Some Like It Hot. Why the first on my list? Luck of the draw. It’s on TV right now. I’m waiting for Jon Stewart  (Clinton! Bill!) and, klik, there’s  Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis in drag. This will be the third time  this year that I bumped into Some Like It Hot  on TMC. It’s like a clean piece of pop music, on in the background and delivering one well-known payoff line after another.   Considering the era, 1959, Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis showed real balls to not only jump into their subversive roles, but they cleared the fences with long, smooth swings.

It’s also a real period piece, an artifact reminding of the way women like Marilyn Monroe were winkingly trotted across the screen as garish T&A shows. That was before muscle tone. 

Brazil. Terry Gilliam’s masterpiece is the greatest movie ever. I can prove it.

Did I mention Memento?

I call this set The Movies That When Taken Together Completely Explain Why We Are Where We Are Today Trilogy:

Pan’s Labyrinth

The Lives of Others

Children of Men

Finally, my  Artier Than Thou pick: Dead Man. Heck, the entire Jim Jarmusch oeuvre. His calm strangeness is a thing unto itself, dream states I’ll never turn down.

Now. Your modest list. A lot of topnotch stuff there. Just reading some titles makes me laugh: A Fish Called Wanda. Election. The Princess Bride. (I think you meant “in-con-SHEEV-able.”)

One quibble. Lost in Translation. One of the many movies that everyone seems to like more than me. Its quirks are affectations. I could not care about either person. They were in Tokyo, a dazzling place it seems. They had time on their hands. They were bored. What type of person chooses to be bored? A boring person. Maybe it should have been a movie about the benefits of Prozac.

Greatest Double Feature Ever, Cold War Div: Dr. Strangelove and The Manchurian Candidate. I own both DVDs. These movies crackle with an energy 15 years ahead of their time. One’s hilarious, the other is profoundly scary. Both are prescient.

One must sleep. 

d

Yes, David, you have a spaceship named after you.  Don’t bug me about it.

I have a movie, Tammy and the Doctor, attached to my name.  Sigh.  Well, my mother, Thyrza, and my dad, Norbert, decided to give their kids pigtails-and-freckles type names.

And please don’t EVER sing “Tammy’s in Love.”  Even if you channel Sandra Dee.

Up next for us both: punching it out over the Coen Bros. and Woody Allen.  Can’t wait….

T.

Whoa, Tammy. I duck out for a quickie-flick, post a post, and fail to notice your most excellent post re: black holes. Attention must be paid! Remember the <BLINK> tag? Maybe you should use it on me.

NOVA means a lot to me, not only for its always excellent science but for playing a role in the primo romantic interlude of my life. (Note to guys: find a woman who knows science. They’re more rational.)

How can I see Black Holes: Infinity Just Got Smaller? I must see it. Quantum cosmo scientists flatter moi?Colbert merely had a spider named after him.

Tam,

I could not forestall the inevitable any longer. I played hooky to catch a 4:30 of Burn After Reading. If you are my client and are reading this: no, hey, really, you’ll get that stuff tomorrow, I swear.

Coen Brothers movies run hot and cold but they always have this in common: as they unreel in front of mine eyes, I’m in heaven. They make Eye Jazz. The Coens are meticulous about their intent in every frame, they obviously love to laugh, and they never, ever give us what years of Hollywood repetition makes us expect. They demand we think and observe. An unnamed character can remain motionless in a scene and you have to laugh, just because he was cast and lit and shot solely for his stern cheekbone. 

There was a sparse crowd. We all laughed plenty throughout. Does this sound like a hilarious line to you?: “You think it’s a Schwinn.” Just you wait.

Maybe it’s the wrong thing to do, but I mostly liked the fact that a bunch of actors who have stayed on top of their game for a long time seemed to relish their sad, lonely, confused, prideful, greedy, indignant characters.  Richard Jenkins, JK Simmons, Frances McDormand, George Clooney, John Malkovich, Brad Pitt — what a cast.

It’s not a topnotch Coen Bros film. But even a lousy Coen Bros is more entertaining than most. To that end, one of the better film writers today, Christopher Orr, posted a Gratuitous Coen Brothers Argument Starter which I think is as dandy as it is pointless. However, Orr as 1 and 2 swapped. Although No Country for Old Men is certifiably perfect in every respect, Miller’s Crossing is the best Coen Brothers Film.

The story is a series of tendrils that arc then snarl. A lot of pesky human nature. Am I talking about Miller’s Crossing or Burn After Reading? Why, both! I’ll wait until you see Burn After Reading before commenting further.

Meanwhile I loved your list. Not too much to fight about, sad to say. I’ll comment on a few next post.

däv

David,

Here’s my list of movie ‘must sees.’ A partial list, full of partiality.  Girl movies for girls, boy movies for girls, movies for both…but no girl movies for boys, ’cause they don’t exist in this universe.  Movies are not listed in order of preference, but simply in the order they came to mind.

Spinal Tap

Best in Show

Lost in Translation

Caddy Shack

Clueless

Nashville

The Conversation

Spiderman, first installment

Superman

Radio Days

Sleeper

Milagro Beanfield War

Star Wars

Psycho

The Birds

The Shining

The Dark Knight

Toy Story

Big

Forrest Gump (This is my Jenny!)

Princess Bride (Inconceivable!)

Fargo

The Manchurian Candidate ( Original )

American Gangster

Harold & Maude

A Fish Called Wanda

Sophie’s Choice

Monty Python and the Holy Grail

Brokeback Mountain

Boys Don’t Cry

Million Dollar Baby

Woodstock

HELP!

The Last Waltz

Singles

Election

Pink Panther

Being There

Dr. Strangelove

Casa Blanca

French Kiss

Junebug

Juno

Howard’s End

The Namesake

What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?

Wonder Boys

Chaplin

Contact

You’ve Got Mail

Shakespeare In Love

High Fidelity

Gross Point Blank

Pulp Fiction

Truly, Madly, Deeply

The Usual Suspects

As Good As It Gets

&

To be continued….

T.

thanks for covering my (now very tan) ass!

This is the internet. It’s inconceivable that you would not post a photo of that.

Ah, the old book-v-movie brawl. A trap, I tell ya! A lengthy movie script is 120 pages (“a minute a page” is the old rule’o'thumb), and that’s with a lot of double spacing. A novella is longer. Anyone hoping to relive a novel’s experience while eating Milk Duds at the Bijou is asking for it.

Like the poor saps who bought into Love in the Time of Cholera. I saw that coming.

Still, it’s fun to trash movies that deign to cop a great novel’s enigma. The most horrifyng example is formerly good, now totally-full-of-it director Robert Zemeckis’ Contact. Carl Sagan was one of our great thinkers. Zemeckis ignored Sagan’s lifelong plea for humans to grow out of their clumsy habit of superstition-based decision making. Contact-the-movie is mush for the I Want My Daddy! crowd.

There are such things as intelligent, literate directors, like Alan J. Pakula, who did Sophie’s Choice. For me, the gold standard is George Roy Hill’s Slaughterhouse Five. Anyone reading Vonnegut’s book would think, “Oh, wow, too trippy, all that getting unstuck in time — no way can you film that.” Yet I can think of no other film that so closely captures the tone of its novel, leaving all of its joys intact. (It came out in 1972. I saw it recently. Holds up wonderfully.)

Then there are films that vastly improve on the novel. Jaws, anyone?

David, thanks for covering my (now very tan) ass! I’m no longer “pale-in.” I.O.U.

Whenever I read an exceptional book subsequently adapted for the screen, I’m likely not interested in the film unless there are plenty of intriguing reviews. When crucial, defining literary detail is lost or poorly manipulated a story is sapped of its strength.

Worst case in point: Cold Mountain. Mangled. Hideous. Filmmakers should be pumped full of buckshot and left in the Appalachian snow to be eaten by badgers for all the damage they did to that miraculous story.

Happiest adaptation surprise: Styron’s Sophie’s Choice.

Your thumbs up/thumbs down book adaptations would be…?

I digress.

Into the Wild: Almost unwatchable. Couldn’t take the flattened characters. Silly caricatures, and I had little empathy for any of them. It seemed a ridiculous tale instead of the tragic, intricate true story Krakauer wrote. A more effective and gripping film about naïve wilderness venture is Grizzly Man.

Atonement: opted to miss the movie. A period story with such delicate psychology, a transforming, didn’t-see-it-coming twist, and the memory of the book’s entire shattering arc was too much to risk.

Starting Out in the Evening and I’m Not There: Can’t think why I missed the former, and I’ll get back to you on the many-sides-of-Dylan flick.

King Corn: BRILLIANT. How easily the boys turned a seemingly breezy story into a lesson in Americana and industry gone berserk. Our narrators discover their roots, as well as how government subsidized corn has transformed Midwest farming and our bodies. Watch this documentary and you’ll not forget its ‘window on a cow’s digestive world’ sequence. The tale is told with empathy because, I believe, the filmmakers honor farming’s early dreams and initiative.

Hold the sweet pickle relish!

T.